Revamped
by blumoone
Summary: Six months following the end of the war between human and vampires, Pam and Tara are starting over in New Orleans with the opening of a new bar and nightclub. Tara wants more but Pam, reluctant to break down the walls around her heart, curves her progeny's advances. When a figure from Tara's past returns however, Pam is faced with a sudden revelation. But by now is it too late?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello there! Now many of my readers will be graced with a familiarity from many months ago. That's right, Revamped is back. I had deleted it shortly after the end of season 6 because the way the season ended totally and completely slaughtered my muse - as many of you can relate to I'm sure. But as I was going through the documents on my computer, I stumbled across the unfinished version of this little gem and I couldn't resist going through it, making a few changes, and re-releasing it to the public. It is canonical up until around the middle of season 6 and then becomes AU. There is no Willa, Nora never died, little to no mention of vamp camp and Sarah Newlin, and no Hep V ridden vampires. Revamped is one of the unofficial prequels to some of my one-shots, mainly Vexation, Pursuit, Gold & Ebony, Constant, and Powerlessness. That being said, old readers I hope you will be relieved to see this back up and new readers I hope you enjoy it as well. Happy reading!**

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Fangtasia Revamped. It was their new beginning. The war between humans and vampires had come to an end. A peace treaty had been drawn up between the country's government officials and the new vampire authority headed by Eric Northman and his sister, Nora Gainsborough. Synthetic blood was once again back in production and on store shelves and vampires and other supernaturals' rights had been reinstated and they were now endowed with the same privileges granted their humans counterparts. Things were finally back to normal.

"Am I supposed to carry you over the threshold or somethin'?" Tara Thornton said, shooting over a playful smirk in response to her Maker's expectant expression as they stood before their new bar and night club on the Rue Bourbon, nestled in the heart of the French Quarter.

"Try it and you'll spend the next six months growing a new pair of arms," Pam snapped, placing a hand on her hip as she positively glared at her progeny. Tara snorted. She could feel Pam's anxiety seeping into the pores of the bond they shared and knew where it was coming from. It was two hours until opening time. Promos had been put up and handed out all over the city. The turnout was expected to be massive. And while she had briefly taken over Fangtasia in Shreveport due to Eric's absence, now she would be flying solo and it scared her just a little bit.

The ebony skinned vampire took Pam's hand in hers and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "There's nothing to be nervous about. We got this."

The blonde stiffened at the contact, her first instincts begging her to tug her hand out of Tara's grasp. But she didn't. She squeezed her progeny's hand back and quickly let go. "Come on, we got shit to take care of before all the breathers arrive. And where the fuck is Ginger? She should've been here already."

Tara shook her head with a soft chuckle and followed Pam into the club.

**~()~()~()~**

The night had been a success. Pam sat in her office vamp speeding through the paperwork, counting receipts, and calculating the profit. Nearly ten grand and counting. Not bad for day one. She had been anxious until the strike of twelve rang in the witching hour and the line of patrons that had accumulated along Bourbon Street began to file in. But the lingering tones of anxiety had quickly been dashed away once she and Tara made their grand entrance, all dolled up for opening night, to a crowd the likes of which she hadn't seen since the revelation.

The sudden arrival of her progeny had Pam's fingers stilling against the keys of her accountant style calculator. Cerulean blue eyes flickered up to the office door where Tara stood, leaning against the jamb in a casual manner. Her jet black mane had been curled and teased for the night but the curls had long since dropped and were now a tumble of limp waves that spilled over bare ebony shoulders. The baby vampire had never been a fan of corsets but she had worn a crimson and black piece that accentuated curves she didn't normally flaunt and put her ample chocolate chest on full display. Black leather pants clung to her lean, muscular legs and steel toed pewter studded boots that completed the ensemble gave her an inch in height. More than a few heads had turned that night as she walked through the crowds before making her way to the bar that overlooked the club's dance floor, tending to their patrons' alcoholic desires and Pam's eye for beauty was still positively enthralled by the sex appeal practically oozing from her Child's pores.

"You're starin'," Tara murmured with a knowing smirk, casually studying her ruby red acrylic nails.

"Don't you have something better to do?" Pam groused, going back to the task Tara's arrival had interrupted, thoroughly annoyed that she had been caught eye fucking her like a randy, hormone riddled teenager.

"The bar's been cleaned and restocked, floor's been put to rights, and Ginger's takin' care of the rest."

When Pam gave no response besides a subtle eyebrow raise, Tara tried to tap into her end of the bond they shared. She was met with a resistance that was akin to placing ones hands too close to a hot stove.

"That is _not _polite," Pam drily reprimanded, eyes snapping up from her work in anger, "You know they say curiosity killed the baby vamp."

"But you ain't speak more than three words to me all night," Tara complained though an apology laced the words as she stepped further into the office, "And every time I touch you, even by mistake, you shy away like I got the motherfuckin' plague or somethin'."

"Vampires don't catch the plague," the blonde deadpanned.

"You know what I mean, Pam," her progeny sighed, placing her hands on the wide desk, "You promised once we got this place established we would make this work, we'd make _us _work. Why are you pullin' away from me?"

Pam closed her eyes and exhaled harshly. She had known this was coming, it was only a matter of time before her strong willed and tenacious progeny started asking questions, making demands. It was part of the reason why she had put in so much time and work involving herself with the opening this new club. They had both needed a distraction from each other and it had worked beautifully. But now, the war was over, the club was open, things had gone back to normal, and Pam wasn't quite ready for that just yet for a multitude of reasons that her pride wouldn't let her speak on.

"Please Tara," she huffed in resignation, her ocean blue eyes meeting the smoldering obsidian of her progeny's gaze, an imploring plea swimming in their depths, "Let's not do this tonight. Not yet."

"Fine," Tara relented begrudgingly after a pregnant spell of silence, turning away from her Maker, "We got eternity I guess."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you guys for the reviews and the reception. They really did make me smile. Here's chapter two, happy reading! This chapter is dedicated to MimiFictionBitch.**

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Pam's ocean blue gaze fell on the face of the antique grandfather clock that stood in the corner of the office. The gilded pendulum swung back and forth, each tick and each tock seeming to echo off of the walls. It was a quarter after five in the morning and dawn was approaching. After ensuring that everything was stacked neatly on the desk, papers placed in appropriate files, writing implements returned to their proper place, Pam stood and pushed in her chair, turning to regard herself in the full length mirror that was nailed to the door. Her ensemble for the night – a midnight blue and black halter corset dress and black studded stiletto heels – had complimented Tara's perfectly. Her hair had been pressed bone straight and fell nearly to the small of her back. That was one thing about being a vampire. Her hair stayed just as long as it was when she was turned even if she cut it, it would grow back in her sleep to the same length within a few nights time so long as she fed regularly.

Exiting the office, she made her way to the private bathroom where she showered and washed the make-up from her face, changing into a fuchsia sweat suit. Their sleeping quarters were located underground equipped with a state of the art security system that short of a nuclear bomb striking was virtually impregnable.

She thought her progeny would have retired already, or at least she had hoped considering Tara's age but the ebony skinned vampire was awake, sitting atop the lid of her mahogany coffin, dressed in a black wife beater and mesh shorts with folded arms and low lashes as she eyed her Maker.

"You'll get the Bleeds," Pam warned drily, lifting the lid to the pink coffin she'd had custom made to replace the one stolen by the anti-vampire cops at the start of the war.

"I was waitin' for you," Tara replied, watching Pam climb into the glossy pink casket, "I was hopin' you had changed your mind about talkin'."

Pam frowned as she looked up at her Child, "I don't know why you'd think that Tara, I've said all I've had to say for the night."

"And I'm just supposed to accept that? Shut up and deal? You know I've never been the type."

Pam rolled her eyes. "Stubborn."

"And you're being selfish. This ain't just about you. Bitch, I done watched you almost die in front of me and thought my world was gonna end. We opened this place together but there's still space here, space that _you're_ creating."

"I am not gonna argue with you," Pam said, heat lacing the words, "Let me sleep in peace."

Tara shook her head as her Maker slammed the lid on her coffin shut with a resounding snap. She didn't know what she was doing wrong. She could remember the feel of Pam's lips on hers; remember the brush of alabaster skin on hers. What had changed? After Eric and Nora had taken over the Authority she had thought they'd be granted the quality time they had missed out on. But that hadn't been the case. The closer she got to Pam the farther the blonde pulled away. And Tara didn't know why. Every time she tried to tap into the bond that had been so freely available to her before, Pam shielded with all her might as if she were deathly afraid she'd let her true feelings spill through. And that bothered the baby vampire. It was like she didn't trust her or something or didn't really care. But she knew it couldn't be the latter. She had seen the love in her Makers eyes more times than she could count. So why was she holding back?

A trickle of blood welled up in her ear and slowly rolled down her ebony cheek. Tara brushed it away with a sigh.

"Told you," a smug voice sounded from the closed confines of Pam's coffin, "Now go to ground."

"Suck me," her progeny muttered with a scowl, climbing into her satin laced resting place.

**~()~()~()~**

When Pam awoke the next evening she could feel the presence of her Child through their bond still at rest which was normal as she typically rose before Tara. Climbing noiselessly out of the confines of her coffin, she padded over to the mahogany box wherein lay her progeny and lifted the lid.

It had become something of a force of habit, watching Tara sleep, that had began the baby vampire's first night in Fangtasia. Tara was an utterly captivating creature to behold and in sleep she was positively breathtaking because her flawless ebony hued futures were smooth and serene. She appeared almost childlike and innocent which was a far cry from her usual hard-ass demeanor.

Pam could watch her forever.

She knew where Tara's frustration was coming from. But she wasn't ready yet. It was too soon after the war, after the rift between her and Eric. She was on her own for the first time in over a hundred years and even though in her human life, she had had only her own self to rely it was taking some time for her to reacquaint herself with that particular skill. Eric had been her everything, her world, her rock, her anchor and now she had to be all of that for Tara and at that moment Pamela Swynford de Beaufort felt incapable. She prided herself on being cold, heartless, and unremorseful. She got of kick out of making people uncomfortable and watching them squirm. That was who she was. Who she had grown to be. Because it was what Eric had needed. What did Tara need? And how was she going to accommodate it. What part of her personality would she have to change to please Tara? She didn't know. Didn't want to know.

Heaving a heavy sigh, she leaned forward and placed a light, chaste kiss on her progeny's lips. "I'm sorry," she murmured against the cool, plump flesh before pulling back before the blood tears that had welled up in her eyes could fall. Right now she needed to procure a meal for herself and her Child. Later, she could dwell on _feelings. _Maybe.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here's chapter three, I'm so thrilled that this story is getting such good reception. If you do have the time to leave a review, it does wonders for an authors muse let me tell you. Happy reading!**

**-blumoone**

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Technically since she was the co-owner of Fangtasia Revamped, Tara didn't have to tend bar. It wasn't in the new job description and they had several employees to take care of the mundane duties that came with making sure the nightclub ran efficiently. Tara, however, found that bartending held something of a nostalgic purpose for her, something that reminded her of her human life. And the tips were on point. Besides that, Pam had expressly forbid her from pole dancing after one patron had gotten a little frisky back in Shreveport though Tara doubted the blonde would object to private show sometime. At least she hoped she wouldn't.

Just thinking about her ice cold Maker drove a sigh from the baby vampire's lips. They had been through a lot. More than she imagine most Makers and Progeny went through in a decade. They had narrowly escaped their True Deaths and while Tara was still getting used to her new life, she could've sworn that alone would have been more than a wakeup call for Pam. For the first time since the turn of the Edwardian era, Pam had come face to face with the fact that the next evening was not promised, had seen firsthand that immortality didn't make one invincible.

It had made Tara see reason so to speak. She didn't want to live the rest of her years – be that one, ten, or hundreds – unhappy. She had spent way too much time dealing with that particular emotion. Twenty seven years. And while it paled in comparison to someone like Eric's thousand or even Pam's century, it had been more than enough time for her. Her human life had ended because she had forever sacrificed her own well being for others and her vampire life had nearly ended countless times during the war because of her inability to shake the coil of humanity. But there had been one pivotal moment that had changed things irrevocably, that moment when she had almost witnessed the light leave Pam's cerulean blue eyes forever. She thought her Maker had understood, had sworn they were on the same page when the blonde vampire had murmured those three little words under a kiss clouded haze.

"I love you."

But that had seemed nearly a lifetime ago and the baby vampire feared her Maker may have forgotten the phrase had ever escaped her bee-stung lips But Tara sure hadn't and she doubted she ever would.

"I'll have a strawberry mango margarita with salt and sugar around the rim," a low feminine voice cut in, effectively derailing the ebony skinned vampire's train of thought and sending that fucker straight off the bridge. Tara knew that voice, knew it as if she had just heard it in her ear the night before. Her obsidian eyes shot up to take in the sight of the raven haired woman sitting close enough to touch. Almond shaped chestnut brown eyes watched her expectantly and Tara shook her head, shock and disbelief clouding her features.

"Naomi?"

"Tara," the dark haired woman said softly, her eyes narrowing as she regarded the ebony skinned creature before her, her tone accusatory as she uttered the next words,

"You're a vampire."

Tara just nodded, rendered dumb from the shock of seeing her former lover after nearly a year.

"Yeah," she murmured hoarsely, finding her voice at last.

"Why?"

The baby vampire snorted and even to her ears the sound was laced with bitterness as her hands moved at blurring speeds to mix the drink Naomi had ordered. "You think I had much of a choice in the matter?"

Naomi shook her head slowly, her expression downcast, "What happened?"

"Too much to get into right now," Tara said, sliding the fruity beverage across the table.

"But the war?"

"I made it and God spare life," another angry sound escaped her nostrils at the irony of the phrase, "I'll be kickin' it for another couple centuries."

A spell of silence passed between the two as one downed her drink and the other merely watched. After a couple moments, Naomi set the empty glass down and looked up to meet the obsidian eyes she had once woken up to on a daily basis.

"I missed you."

**~()~()~()~**

Pam sat in her Maker's throne, glacial blue eyes trained on the scene at the bar. Oh, she had seen her progeny's former lover the moment the exotic beauty had walked into the club, golden hued skin exposed in the crimson bandage skirt and checkered print crop top she wore. The blonde vampire was well aware of the exact moment when the stunning Oriental caught sight of Tara, had watched her mouth drop and eyes widen infinitesimally. But the expression hadn't come from shock or disbelief. It had been evident in her demeanor; the way she had walked in, the way she had gazed around the strobe lighted dance floor that she had known Tara was somewhere inside.

Suffice it to say, Pam knew the human had come for her Child.

The moment Naomi walked up to the bar and proceeded to place her order, Pam sat up straighter, tuning out the cacophony of humans talking, breathing, moaning, screaming, and the loud techno beats pumping from the sound system, giving her progeny and Naomi her undivided attention.

It was clear that her progeny had not been anticipating seeing that particular human sit down at her bar but after a few moments Pam realized that Tara was not unhappy to see her – Tara had _missed_ her former girlfriend. It was all in the feels that were dripping through the bond. Well, wasn't that just _sweet? _Pam arched a perfectly manicured brow as a lance of very familiar emotion shot through the center of her chest. She didn't want Naomi here or anywhere near Tara. And she didn't want that look in the Asian girl's eyes either. She didn't like how Tara seemed oblivious to the blatant desire spilling from slanted chestnut pools.

Pam settled back in the throne, crossing one fishnet clad leg over the other. The bitch had another thing coming if she thought she could waltz into _her _house and pick up where she and Tara had left off. Nearly a year ago Pam had ended things between them and she had no qualms with ensure they remained separated. Permanently.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Once again thanks so much for the reviews. It pleases me to no end to know that this story is being read and enjoyed and each installment is highly looked forward to. Without further ado, here is the fourth chapter. Once again if you have the time to pen a review, it'd be greatly appreciated! What did you like about the chapter/story, how'd it make you feel, favorite parts/quotes, constructive critiques if applicable, etc...these are what authors love. **

**Happy reading!**

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That night after the club had closed and all had been taken care of, Ginger and the rest of the staff had departed, Tara was still reeling in shock from seeing Naomi. She had never forgotten the one who had been her first female lover and though the majority of their relationship had been had been built on lies from Tara's end – the love and their feelings for each other had been real. It had crushed her inside to end things so abruptly and it was then the baby vampire's thoughts drifted to the events surrounding the last time she'd seen Naomi, when she had to say goodbye to her girl.

Because of Pam.

Tara shook her head as a dry, humorless chuckle escaped her lips. How much things had changed in such a short amount of time. Less than a year later and she had become the one thing she had hated the most. And she was in love with someone who had tried more than once to kill her. She could still remember the chilling words uttered by her current beloved in the parking lot of Merlottes – "It may be ten minutes from now or ten years. The moment you think you are safe I promise I will hunt you down and fucking shred you like confetti." Her mind replayed then what had happened between her and Naomi in her blue truck and Naomi's last words to her after she had all but broken the girl's heart – "You're going to regret this." And her response – "I already do."

A shudder passed through Tara's body. God this was crazy!

Pam sauntered into their quarters then, her hair a tumble of flaxen waves that kissed her terry cloth clad shoulders. Her eyes fell immediately on her progeny. "What's the matter with you?"

Tara shook her head as she replied rather hoarsely, "Just got a lot on my mind."

"Yeah, I kinda guessed that," Pam deadpanned, tapping the center of her chest to indicate the hum of the bond, "Care to cut to the chase sugar? I want to shower some time _before_ sunrise."

The ebony skinned vampire sighed, her hands falling into her lap, her jet black hair shielding her face as she lowered her head. Like Pam, she didn't _like_ to show her emotions but unlike her Maker she didn't yet possess the skill to hide them too well, and _that_ coupled with the bond thrumming between her and her and Pam, made it almost impossible to hide how she was really feeling from the blonde.

"Spit it out," Pam prompted impatiently, the dry tone belying her own growing anxiety. She didn't like the despondent look on Tara's face and the tumult of emotions playing hopscotch through the bond from her progeny's end did nothing to help her unease. Not to mention that quaint little visit from the ghost of girlfriends' past and Pam had _no_ idea _what_ might come spilling out of Tara's cocoa dusted mouth.

"Do you love me?" the four words were whispered almost reluctantly, as if the baby vampire wanted to reel them back in before they could meet their intended target. Pam's eyes widened slightly but besides that she gave no outward evidence that her Child's words had affected her.

"Come again?"

Tara's brows furrowed at the hesitation, rising from where she had been sitting on the edge of her mahogany wood coffin, folded her arms under her chest, and glared at her Maker. "I ain't stutter."

"I heard you perfectly. Allow me to clarify," Pam drawled, throwing a hand on her hip, "Where did that question come from?"

"The hell does it matter where it came from, just answer it," Tara countered, her voice rising as her tone deepened in anger, "I want to hear you say it."

It took everything within Pam to maintain her signature glare while she wondered where all of this was coming from. There was something else in the bond coming from Tara's end that she hadn't picked up on when she had first entered their sleeping quarters and now it was screaming out loud and clear. Her progeny was angry. It was all in the bond and all in her face. Contrary to what Tara may have thought, she wore her expression decidedly easily and even if she kept mum over what exactly was bothering her – which was a rare occasion entirely – the world could see when she was upset. It was something Pam had meant to school out of her. It was very dangerous for a vampire to be so emotional when there were plenty older and stronger vampires who viewed emotion as weakness and could very manipulate things to suite their favor. But now, _that _little fact couldn't take precedence not when all of the simmering anger Tara was throwing out was being directed toward Pam.

"Things don't have to be spoken on for them to exist." It was a line Eric had used on her when he'd left to fight in World War I. It had been the first time he had left her for a period of time since she had been turned. It had appeased her. But she had been so different from Tara.

"What the fuck does that mean?" her incensed progeny barked, "You can't say it, can you?"

Where was this coming from? She had told Tara she had loved her before. Once. And they'd both been rather intoxicated with relief that neither of them had met their True Death but it had been clear at the time that particular event was closer than eminent. Who knew when they would see each other again, or if they would see each other again with the speed at which those breathers were gunning for their heads. Those could have very well been the last words she had spoken to her progeny. But _now_? Now, things were _good_. The war was over. Humans had gone back to their rightful place, _below_ vampires. Neither of them was _dying _tonight. Why did Tara have to be reassured of her affections? Why now of all times?

Pam strolled lazily toward her Child, tossing her hair over her shoulder as her face slipped into an expression that was just as comfortable and familiar as a human's exhale. A small smile tugged at the corners of her plump pink lips and she settled down on the mahogany coffin. She crossed one of her legs over the other, placing both of her hands on either side of her, and regarded Tara with an expectant eye.

"Come here."

The two words took on the properties of a siren song that Tara was hopeless to obey. Her body all but crumpled as she sat beside her Maker, allowing Pam's arms to wrap themselves around her shoulders, pulling her to her ample breasts. This was the first time she'd felt her Maker's embrace in months, the first time in a long while she was close enough for her senses to be ensnared by the bewitching aromas of lavender and wild rose that seem to ooze from Pam's pores. She hadn't ever known anything that had been more perfect. Not with Sam. Not with Eggs. Not with Nao-

Naomi.

The sudden feel of Pam's cool lips against the thin skin of her throat had Tara sucking in a gasp of unnecessary air, her head falling to the side to give her Maker better access to the sensitive pulse point that had always been one of her spots since she had discovered sex could feel good. Pam's gripped tightened as she continued to lavish lazy kisses along Tara's neck, down to her collarbone where she nipped sharply, eliciting a groan from cocoa lips.

As Pam's hands went for the waistband of her mesh shorts and her fangs descended with a solid click, Tara's head was swirling with delicious delirium. But something in this moment felt wrong. Squirming under her Maker's touch, Tara took in a few pulls of air. "What are you doin'?" she ground out, her voice hoarse, tone gone several octaves higher.

"Answering your question sugar," Pam drawled in a sultry cadence that went straight to Tara's core.

"How?"

"More like an 'I can show you better than I can tell you' type of thing. Now, stop talking and lie back."

Tara shook her head, the looseness in her muscles fading faster than stars at sunrise. "That ain't it," she groused, pushing her Maker away from her, "And you can't just use sex to get what you want. You ain't a prostitute no more. Get off."

Pam's deep blue eyes widened and her hands stilled. "What - ?"

"Get _off_ of me," Tara's tone hardened as she shook herself from her Maker's grasp, "Don't touch me."

Pam watched in disbelief as Tara climbed into her coffin, blood tears welling in her obsidian eyes as she shut the lid, anger and sadness coursing like silver bullets through the bond.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello readers! Here is the fifth installment of Revamped. I just want to thank you all for your unwavering love and support and I do hope I don't disappoint. If you do have the time to pen a review to let me in or your thoughts while/after reading, they'll definitely make my day.**

**Happy reading!**

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Tara felt her body reanimate itself that night and along with it returned the anger, the hurt, and the frustration from early that morning clouding her mind, slicing through her heart. Her skin still burned from where Pam had kissed her, kisses that had been bestowed not to please but to appease; not to promise but to pacify; to basically shut her up. She had wanted a proclamation of love and instead she had received a virtual pat on the head and a lollipop. But why had she been expecting more? Why had she even set herself up for that? This was Pamela Swynford de Beaufort, the vampire who wouldn't know how to express feelings if said feelings had crawled onto her head and ripped out a lock of her golden curls.

And that just pissed the baby vampire off even more.

A flash of light and a vibrating buzz sent her dark gaze downward where she saw a notification for a text message on the screen of her phone. Brows furrowing, she lifted the device, quickly unlocked it and slid over to her messages.

_Can I see yu 2nite?_

The number had long since been removed from her list of contacts but she knew it well.

Naomi.

Something quivered in her chest when she read and re-read Naomi's text. She wanted to see her ex. As much as she loved Pam or tried to show Pam how much she loved her, Tara wanted to see Naomi, wanted to talk to her without the scrutiny of her Maker's calculating cobalt blue gaze. Oh, she had felt Pam watching her at the bar the night before as she had entertained conversation with Naomi, had felt the faint whips of jealousy lash at the bond. It would anger Pam if she knew Tara was considering meeting up with Naomi.

But what the blonde didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Or piss her clean the fuck off.

_Yea. Meet me at the spot on St. Charles in 15. Our place._

Glancing over at the closed lid of the pink coffin, Tara hopped out of the confines of her own and tiptoed up the stairs that led out into the main portion of the club. Pam would have already gone to procure food for them as she usually rose up to an hour before her progeny, so Tara had some time. Snagging a True Blood from the fridge, not even bothering to check the type, she popped the cap and chugged it down, cringing when the cold metallic taste hit her tongue. It was absolutely nothing like the real thing but it was sustenance and would hold her hunger in check for a while. She was six months old and despite having been forced to grow up early due to the war, she was still prone to the weaknesses of baby vampires and did not want to have to combat with her beast lest an especially tasty smelling human sauntered a little too close to her outside.

Once she had drunk as much as she could stomach, she set the bottle on the counter of the bar, dabbed at her mouth and headed out of the door. Had she been human, her heart would have been racing. She felt like a teenager sneaking out of the house when their parents were sleep. It was both thrilling and nauseating even though, she tried to convince herself at least a thousand times with each step that she took, she wasn't doing anything wrong. Technically speaking, she and her Maker weren't in a relationship and besides, she was just meeting Naomi to _talk. _Right? The girl was little more than an old friend she hadn't seen in months. She couldn't be faulted for that! Right?

The sight of the powder blue pickup truck would have made her heart skip a beat had she still been human. So many memories of that old truck came to mind in the span of a few seconds, like clips of an old movie played in sequence – sharing dinner in the front seat, cuddling in the back, fucking on the hood. _Shit_. She felt a shudder go through her as she tried to stamp down her baser emotions because lust could effectively trigger her beast too and that was all she needed for tiny threads of arousal to go seeping into the bond and Pam might fly out of the ground like a bat out of hell. Literally. Despite the stress of danger of the war the bitch had somehow manage to grow a pair of wings.

But given the fact that she wasn't doing anything wrong, she had nothing to worry about. Right?

Naomi stepped out of the parked truck just as Tara reached the tailpipe and the ebony skinned vampires breath caught in her throat. Back in Fangtasia, the full effects of her former lover's beauty had been rather dulled down from the shock of actually seeing her after nearly a year. But now, the light of the full moon caught in her jet black tresses that she wore loose and flowing, which was a rare occurrence as it was almost always piled up in a messy bun or ponytail so it wouldn't get in the way in the ring. Her almond shaped eyes were lined with kohl giving them an even more exotic accentuation giving way to deceptively delicate features courtesy of her Asian background. She donned all black that showed off her slender though muscular build and everything about her stance reminded Tara of a feline. It was rather ironic giving the fact that Tara was the actual predator here but Naomi had her feeling like the one who should be running the opposite direction.

Giving herself a mental shake out of her stupor, Tara ran her tongue across her drying lips and smirked.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself," Naomi countered smoothly, her lips tugging up in the corners ever so subtly that to anyone else it wouldn't have looked like a smile. But Tara knew it well.

"Been awhile huh."

"Yeah, it has. You still handlin' shit in the ring?"

Naomi's smile widened as she gave a short nod. "Sure am. Everyone's asked about you back at the gym of course. Old Dan. Remy. Louis. Carmen. Couldn't believe it when I told 'em we'd called it quits. Didn't really go into detail of course but yeah."

Tara snorted, shaking her head, "This is fuckin' crazy. I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"You never _wanted _to see me again if memory serves me correctly. What was it you told me?" Naomi tapped her chin, her eyes rolling skyward as she sashayed over to the truck, unhooking the hinges that allowed the bed to be let out, moving over some of the junk inside. "Oh yeah, that's right. The love I had for you wasn't enough. Or something like that."

The ebony skinned vampire sighed, following behind her former lover and sinking down to sit into the bed of the truck, knifing night kissed fingers through her hair. "Yeah," she muttered after moment, "That sounds about right."

"Looks like you and that walking zombie are on good terms now huh," Naomi continued, slowly settling herself down beside the vampire, "I mean that was her wasn't it? Sitting on that throne? Guess she got a face lift or something."

"Yeah."

Tara cleared her throat unsure of how exactly to go on. How was she going to explain to the woman that she once loved that things were really over between all because of the woman who had driven them apart in the first place; the very same woman who had turned her into an eternal creature of the night.

"But none of that matters anyway, does it," Naomi whispered and it was her tone that had Tara's head whipping around so fast had she been human she might have gotten a severe case of whiplash. She knew that tone well because it was the same tone that used to go straight to the meeting of her thighs and her brain empty of all thought save for the ones that involved tangled limbs, breathy moans, and sultry kisses.

"It doesn't?"

"No it doesn't." Golden kissed hands encased a pair of ebony hued hands and squeezed, "You've come home to me Tara. My love was enough after all." And before the vampire could have a moment to register what was happening, Naomi gave her a sharp tug, pulling her into her arms and pressed her lips to hers.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: The feedback on this story is making me giddy I swear. I'm loving the fact that you all are loving this story. Here's the chapter six and if you have time to spare, drop me a couple lines letting my know what you thought!**

**Happy reading!**

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The bond between Maker and Progeny was both a blessing and a curse. It was a connection that was unparalleled by any other; a permanent blood tie that lasted forever and a day and could only be severed by six simple words and only if both parties were willing to part ways. Your thoughts and feelings were a virtual open book unless of course you learned how to effectively turn the pages or snap the volume shut altogether. Shielding was a skill that took a great deal of conscious effort and concentration.

It was a skill Tara had yet to master apparently because Pam knew the exact moment when her progeny kissed that girl.

She had returned to their underground quarters with a human female for them to share – a shopkeeper from Royal Street who had just been locking the door to her small boutique. Her cropped curly hair and rustic complexion bespoke of her Creole heritage and the beast within the blonde vampire had purred with glee.

It had taken all of five seconds after the initial shock and the expected terror on the human's end of things for Pam to get the pretty young woman to see reason. No human could resist a gaze into her cobalt blues, they'd been her most effectively dangerous weapon since her human days. Eric had once likened the blue of her eyes to the call of the sea. They lured helpless victims in and then drowned them within their depths.

Once she felt Tara awaken for the night, it was as if a light switch had been flicked on somewhere in the center of her chest followed by the humming buzz of their connection. Shortly after Tara's undead body reanimated, Pam felt the rush of emotions that were a result of her antics from the night before. A sliver of guilt shot through the blonde's heart. She enjoyed torture as much as the next vampire but she wasn't a sadist when it came to the feelings of Tara and Eric. She very much took them into account and she didn't enjoy hurting them. Especially not Tara who had known hurt her entire life. She didn't want to add to it. She _did_ love her progeny but showing it? Expressing it? She didn't know where to start and she needed Tara to be patient with her. Just for a little while longer. They had eternity. What was the rush?

The instant Pam returned the nightclub with the Creole blood bag in toe, she knew Tara wasn't there and judging by the confliction skipping through her chest she had a damn good idea on just where her precocious Child might have wandered off to. Or to _whom_, rather.

Her first instinct was to summon her baby vampire, give her a thorough tongue lashing regarding the dangers for a newborn traipsing around the Crescent City – never mind that said newborn have proved more times to count that she could handle herself – and then send her to bed with nothing but a cold bottle of True Blood for dinner. But she didn't do that. No. She wanted to wait and see how things were going to pan out.

Making quick work of her meal though barely registering the sweet and spicy tang of the girl's blood, Pam sent the human on her blissfully glamoured little way before perching onto Eric's throne and tuning back into the current of feels coursing through her chest.

Nervousness quickly fluttered to excitement which gave way to happiness. Happiness shifted into incredulity before tapering off to contentment.

And then they were kissing.

Pam pinched the bridge of her nose and heaved a sigh. Of anger? Frustration? Sadness? She didn't know. She just wasn't sure. Over the course of a century her emotions had been warped and controlled to the point where she could only identify a select handful. All of the others fell into the box marked '_feelings_' and that particular box was duct taped shut and packed away into the further recesses of her psyche, only managing to escape _ever_ so often and then _only_ when those she actually _cared _about were concerned.

This was her fault and she knew it. She had driven Tara to this point, driven her to find some sort of solace wrapped in the arms of another woman. If she had just sucked it up and put on her big girl panties, Tara would be at Fangtasia right now and they would be sharing the Creole girl. Maybe after that Pam would finally sit her Child down and just talk to her. That was what Tara had really wanted, for her to stop shutting her out and just tell her what it was. She could do that, couldn't she? And she would! And then who knew? Maybe then she could correct her mistakes from the night before and really give her progeny the loving she deserved. It had been far too long since they'd been intimate and that quick tryst on the beach couldn't really be counted could it? No, tonight she'd show her just another perk of being immortal. Just as soon as Tara got –

Pam was out of the throne and on her feet in an instant, her fangs dropping with a sharp, solid click as potent pain and sheer panic flooded the bond, seizing control of all five of her heightened senses in a powerful vice grip. Whatever was happening at that moment was _not _good at all and while she didn't know what the hell was going on, Pam was sure of one thing however. Tara was in trouble.

She sped out of the club, Tara's name a whisper on her lips as the throbbing in her chest and vibrating pulses beneath her skin acting like a supernatural GPS system directing right to her progeny's location on St. Charles Avenue.

Only she didn't get that far.

"Where do you think you're going you fanged freak?"

That was the last thing she heard before two small pops of a silenced pistol rang out and she crumpled to ground, screaming from the agony of having both her knee caps shattered by the silver hollow point bullets.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I know, I know I'm late. But here's is chapter 7! I know I probably gave all of you a heart attack with that cliff hanger from the previous chapter but I'm glad you liked it. Without further ado, here's the next installment. As always, please let me know with you thought with a couple lines, they make my day and give me the motivation to continue my craft.**

**Happy Reading!**

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Tara was floundering and there was nothing keeping her grounded but the feel of Naomi's lips against hers moving with a deliciously sinful intent. She didn't know when she had started kissing her back but suddenly a tide of memories that had been repressed nearly a year ago came rushing back full force to flood the shores of her mind. Her leaving Bon Temps for what she hoped would be for good. Driving with no set destination in mind. Arriving in the Big Easy for what was only supposed to have been a pit stop to refuel, grab a bite to eat, and then be on her way. But something had happened. She'd met Naomi who had introduced her to the ring as well as other things about herself she had never known and New Orleans had become her home.

Until Lafayette had sent her that fateful text message, letting her know that Sookie was still alive. The text message that had brought her back to Bon Temps. The text message that would eventually end things between her and Naomi. The text message that had inevitably her brought her to Pam.

Pam.

Her eyes fluttered open then and she broke the kiss with an unnecessary gasp. "W-what are we doin'?" she murmured softly, trying to gather her bearings while fighting against the almost animalistic urge to kiss the girl again.

The question was hardly out of her mouth before the caustic burn of a silver chain around her neck cut the words short and drew a strangled scream from her throat as her ebony skin sizzled and smoked beneath the heavy links.

"No!" Naomi cried, jumping to her feet and grabbing at the assailant that had run up behind Tara, wielding the silver chain, "No, you said you weren't going to hurt her Carmen!"

"Are you fucking stupid?" the pale brunette barked as her grip on the chain tightened, evoking another pained cry from Tara, "She's a vampire, _querida. _She could kill us in two seconds!"

"This was a trap?" Tara rasped, struggling to speak through the pain, "Why Naomi?"

"No!" Her former lover yelled out again, shaking her head emphatically, "Not a trap. I swear."

"Then what - ?" And that's when she felt excruciating pain burst in her knees – first the right and then left. This pain was different though, it wasn't physical but metaphysical. She'd experienced it during the war when Pam had been hurt and recognized it instantly. It made her struggle in earnest against Carmen's hold.

"You have to let me go and I promise I won't hurt y'all. Pam's in trouble. I gotta go to her. Please."

Naomi shook her head again and now she smiled, a smile of relief that just seemed scarily out of place considering the situation. "Remy and Louis got her. We're going to get rid of her once and for all."

Tara's eyes widened and she was sure that had she been human, her heart might have stopped. She even forgot the pain of the silver as her jaw dropped in disbelief.

"W-what?"

"It's her fault we broke up Tara. She promised to kill us, to kill you that night in case you forgot and we're going to make sure that doesn't happen. We're going to kill her. It's the only way for us to be together!" There was something crazed in Naomi's eyes now and Tara couldn't do anything but shake her head. Carmen however was growing impatient and she wrenched the chain tighter.

"Get on with it _querida_, we gotta meet the boys at the gym."

"I'm sorry baby," Naomi murmured apologetically, reaching out to draw a tender caress across an ebony cheek but Tara snatched herself away from the touch.

"What the fuck makes you think I'm coming with y'all psycho bitches?" the baby vampire growled.

"Because, _negrita,_" Carmen whispered in an eerily dulcet tone right in her ear, "How else will you kill the blonde one?"

**~()~()~()~**

Pam's knees were slowly, painfully starting to heal. But that didn't exactly matter at the moment. She was silvered down in the trunk of a white Toyota Camry having been unceremoniously deposited therein by one of the two meatheads who had attacked her outside of the club. The only positive thing out of this entire situation being that according to the bond, she was getting closer and closer to Tara.

Who was still in pain.

She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath focusing all her energy on the bond, fighting through the pain of the silver to send a wave of reassurance down Tara's end. The baby vampire was panicking which was a strange emotion coming from Tara because in the six months plus that they had been bonded, Pam had never felt her Child panic before. Tara was usually the level headed one so the older vampire knew something must be terribly, terribly wrong to evoke that particular emotion.

'_Don't worry_,' Pam whispered through their metaphysical connection, '_We're gonna be alright_.'

The gesture had the desired effect and relief bubbled in the center of Pam's chest. There was nothing left now to do but wait for the car to stop moving.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. The war was over. And New Orleans had been far more tolerant to the supernatural community unlike those backwater cesspools like Bon Temps and rural Shreveport so Pam doubted this was a crime being orchestrated by some sicko vampire hate groups. No, this had everything to do Naomi. She was sure of it. It was clear that the fiery Oriental had been planning this and had lured Tara away to separate them so her vicious scheme could be played to full effect.

Pam couldn't wait to kill her.

She was going to enjoy it too. Just to watch the light leave Naomi's almond shaped eyes and hear her golden hued throat rattle with her last breath. God, it was starting to turn her on.

The engine was killed several moments later and the two assailants got out of the car. Pam could hear their heartbeats kick up several notches as they approached the trunk. The internal lock clicked open and her eyes fluttered shut against the assault of a powerfully bright street lamp they must have parked the car beneath.

"Now you boys are selfish," Pam deadpanned, as one of the pair reached in to haul her out, "One of you could've stayed back here to keep me company."

The Beauliere warehouse had been converted into a fighter's gym sometime in the 1960's. It was a large four story building on a seemingly deserted dead end strip containing other boarded up storage houses and outlets. Pam was dragged out of the trunk of the car, her hands silvered behind her, another chain around her neck. She limped due to the state of her partially healed knees but her captors pressed onward, kicking open the door to the gym, and frog marching her inside.

Her eyes instantly sought out her progeny.

Tara's gaze met Pam's and her eyes widened at the sight before her. She instantly got a flashback of her Maker being led out of Fangtasia by the authority cops after taking the blame for Elijah Stromer's death which then warped into the memory of Governor Burrell's swat team storming into Fangtasia and holding her at gunpoint. A flame sparked in the center of her chest and Pam felt it. She sent a tiny head shake to her Child because she already knew how they were going to get out of this situation. She had the place cased in ten seconds just as Eric had taught her and all she needed was her hot headed progeny to stay calm. Just for few moments.

Then she could wild the hell out.

One of the men aimed a kick to Pam's back, knocking her silver weakened body to her knees.

"Go ahead Tara!" Naomi cried, her eyes glazed with manic excitement, "Do it! Do it now and we can be together! Kill her!"

Obsidian eyes met cerulean blues and the blonde nodded, her bee-stung lips curling around the word. "Now!"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello to my wonderful, wonderful readers. Well, here it is, the end of the road. This is the eight and final cahpter of Revamped. Thank you all so much for taking this journey with me, for your support, your kind words and your loyalty. I truly, truly appreciate it. I want to give a special shout out to MimiFictionBitch, WhatHurtsMetheMost, and kriddee. You guys are marvelous. Without further ado, the conclusion to Revamped.**

**Happy reading!**

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It was like a choreographed dance. Tara round house kicked Carmen, sending her flying backward, blood splattering from a broken jaw and the loss of three teeth. Naomi ducked out of the way of the first punch aimed her way but Tara caught her with the following left hook which also sent her reeling backwards, crashing into a stack of wooden crates, landing like a ragdoll. The men forgot Pam as they charged the ebony skinned vampire like two red faced bulls but Tara caught them both, nearly decapitating Remy with a powerful clothesline and snapping Louis' femur in half with low kick.

"Fuckin' idiot," she growled in a low and dangerously, shattering the bones in Remy's outstretched hand with a heavy, booted stomp before vamp speeding to her Maker.

"Well, well, well," Pam crooned, positively brimming with pride as she eyed the incapacitated humans, two of whom had been knocked unconscious, the other two screaming like stuck pigs, "I suppose I should monitor what you watch on television during your breaks from now on. Those Xena reruns are having quite the influence on you."

"Shut the hell up bitch," Tara muttered though potent relief and concern laced the words as she went with her first instinct to peel the silver out of Pam's flesh with her bare hands. She couldn't help the sharp yelp of pain that escaped her lips as she went for the chains that bound her Maker's pale wrists.

"Don't," Pam chastised, wincing as the sharp pain lit up her own hands, "Take your shirt off and use it to protect your hands."

Tara did as she was told and quickly had Pam unbound who left her hands to her progeny's face, tilting Tara's head this way and that, inspecting the temporary scarring left by the silver chains to make sure that they were healing properly.

"Are you all right?"

Her progeny nodded slowly but in reality her head was all fucked up. How did things even get here. She looked back at the sprawled out humans. Remy's yells had quieted to whimpers and what sounded like prayers in Creole. Louis had passed out from the pain. Carmen was stirring and Naomi hadn't moved. When she had been living in New Orleans during the trying time in her life after Franklin and after Sookie had disappeared, these had been her second family She had loved these guys and they had almost killed her. Granted, they hadn't been trying to purposely deliver unto her the True Death, but the thought of Pam dying right here tonight nd then going on made no damn sense. Yes the blonde was infuriating, yes they had their ups and downs but she _loved_ Pam. She just wanted her Maker to love her back.

"Hey," Pam murmured softly, her eyes narrowing with concern, "Are you good?"

"I'm good," said Tara turning back to the older vampire, "What are we gonna do about them though?"

"I got several ideas about that and it all involves scattering various body parts from Lake Pontchartrain to the Gulf of Mexico."

Tara shook her head, "Naw we can't do that. Remy's got a three year old boy at home and Carmen's momma's dyin' of cancer."

Pam arched a perfectly manicured brow of incredulity. "What?"

"Please, let's glamour 'em or somethin'."

Pam couldn't believe what she was hearing. Well she could, but she didn't like it. Had it been Eric they're would have been no questions asked for the four humans would have been drained and dismembered already. But Tara was different. She didn't possess the same thirst for blood the way Pam and her Viking Maker did. Tara did kill when warranted. Her progeny was a very efficient sharp shooter. And her fighting skills would put Bruce Lee to shame. But she wasn't cruel, she wasn't ruthless.

And she loved Naomi.

"Fine," Pam murmured uncharacteristically softly, "You glamour the girls and I'll handle them," she nodded at the men.

"Thank you," Tara said and the relief that burst through the bond hurt worse than the silver chains.

**~()~()~()~**

It was fifteen minutes to four by the time they reached Fangtasia Revamped. Pam had been surprisingly quiet for the entire journey home but Tara's thoughts were elsewhere too, choosing instead to focus on what they had left back in that warehouse. She sat at the empty bar with her head in her hands unable to tear her thoughts away from all that had happened from her receiving Naomi's text to now and how differently things could have played out. She was relieved. She and her Maker had managed to get out safely, save for a few silver burns that had fully healed by now and she'd managed to keep her hands clean. She knew Pam was sore about not being able to let her vampire nature take over but Tara couldn't live for eternity with mortal blood on her hands. She just couldn't. Mentally. The war had been different. It was kill or be killed but glamouring the four back at the gym had yielded the same result. Naomi would never come looking for her again because in her head, Tara Mae Thorton and Toni Dandridge never existed.

She and Pam could live out the rest of their years in peace, until of course the next crazed ex lover came hobbling in their bar. But of course they would be ready to handle that. Together.

Thinking of her blonde Maker, Tara's eyes roved around the bar. Where was Pam? It had been a good twenty, thirty minutes since they'd gotten home. She had sauntered off but still hadn't come back up. Tara consulted the bond, feeling for her Maker and froze.

Pam was crying. Tara knew from the heavy weight she felt in the center of her chest that almost made her own eyes well with blood. The stillness in the air was thick and the baby vampire couldn't help but feel uneasy.

"Pam?" She called out, jumping up from the bar, "Where you at?"

She headed down to where their sleeping quarters were and heard the shower running. Tara turned left to enter their large luxurious bathroom and that's where she found her Maker, perched on the edge of their Jacuzzi style bathtub in a white cotton bathrobe, her hair damp from the shower, blood tears rolling down her alabaster cheeks, ragged sobs causing her shoulders to rise and fall.

Tara was at her side in a heartbeat, sinking to her knees at Pam's feet. "What happened?" she asked, her voice tight with concern, brows furrowed, "Why're you cryin'? What's wrong?"

Pam's response was nothing but more gut wrenching sobs that struck Tara like sledgehammer blows to the heart. She had never seen her Maker so broken and she didn't know what to do or how to fix it but knew that she had to do something even if it took her an eternity to do so. And that was how she knew the magnitude of the love she felt for Pamela Swynford de Beaufort was far greater than she had thought. She had never loved anyone more. Not even Sookie and she had taken a bullet to the head for the fairy. It wasn't unlike the 'I'm going to throw myself in the line of fire to sacrifice myself for you because I feel like I owe it to you kind of love' but was mingled with the 'I would hunt down anyone who dares bring nothing but smiles to your face and dismember them with my bear hands before draining their limbless body dry' and the 'my life could never feel complete without you in it as life without you would be death incarnate'. Her love for Pam outweighed every other emotion, need, and desire in her being and she slammed all of that into the bond, waiting for that moment when the typhoon of emotions struck.

Pam stopped crying. Her cerulean eyes rimmed with drying crimson shot up to meet her progeny's obsidian gaze, the expression floundering within those pools of sapphire was almost childlike – a look of mingled hope and caution. "But I felt you," she murmured, her voice gone two octaves higher in her emotional distress, "I felt you kiss her. I felt your desire for her. I felt your love for her."

"Did it feel anything like what you're feeling right now?"

Pam shook her head slowly, placing a hand over the center of her chest where the bond hummed between her and Tara, vibrating with the love Tara had sent through the invisible wires of connection. "Not at all."

"My love for Naomi was almost superficial. She was my first connection outside of Bon Temps and gave me something to cling to against the unfamiliarity of New Orleans. But now, I realize I finally do have a home and it's right here. With you. That is, if you sure you want me."

Pam let out a helpless sob at the confession. Damn it, she hated crying but she couldn't help it. She had been stupid all this time. "You're fucking crazy Tara Thornton," she murmured tearfully, a soft chuckle escaping her pouty lips, "You're crazy to love me."

Tara shook her head and reached out to thumb away her Maker's fallen tears, "Then I guess I'm insane and you know what? I don't give a fuck."

She wrapped her ebony sculpted arms around Pam's slender waist and pulled her Maker to her. The blonde resisted at first but the look in her progeny's eyes caused all the tension to melt from her limbs. She settled in Tara's strong arms, tucking her face in the crook between her chin and shoulders and sighed as more tears threatened to fall.

"I would hold you forever."

The line was familiar as it hit Pam's ears. It was what Tara had uttered that night on the beach, the night they had escaped the Authority's headquarters. This time however, Pam didn't chide her with a rebuff. She smiled softly and slid an alabaster finger down a muscularly lean forearm that had been kissed by midnight sending her own tidal wave love crashing through the bond, feeling Tara shudder as it hit home and the relieve that followed in on love's heels.

"And I would let you."

**FIN**


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